


A Last Minute Christmas

by geeniusbar



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Shopping, Discord - Freeform, Domestic, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Grocery Shopping, Idiots in Love, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Romance, Shopping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2020-12-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:55:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,224
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28045038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/geeniusbar/pseuds/geeniusbar
Summary: Shopping was never Eddie Diaz's strong point, organisation – on the other hand – was. Every year he would finish his Christmas shopping before Christmas music blared across the shopping mall and ruined his day with fake cheer.This year, was entirely different.Or, Buck and Eddie go Christmas shopping a few days before Christmas.Buddie Advent. Prompt: Last Minute Christmas Shopping
Relationships: Athena Grant/Bobby Nash, Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Evan “Buck” Buckley & Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Maddie Buckley/Howie "Chimney" Han
Comments: 4
Kudos: 170
Collections: 25 (More) Days Of Buddie





	A Last Minute Christmas

**Author's Note:**

> For the Buddie Discord. You guys are incredible

“Was the triple shot necessary?” Buck asked, pointing a fry at Eddie’s take away triple shot latté. Buck let out a tired sigh moments after Eddie shifted his shoulders, “don’t shrug, it’s 4pm And you always tell everyone in the house off for drinking coffee too late.”

“Can we drop it?” Eddie bit back, leaning back in the uncomfortable food court chair and glaring away from Buck. 

“You’ve very broody today,”

“Dropping that too.”

“Since when do we have veto powers for conversations?” 

Eddie let out an aggressive sigh and took a sip of the coffee.

“How many more shops do we have to hit?” Buck asked, his voice switching from  the  joking  tone to the tone he used whenever Eddie (or anyone, for that matter) was exhausted from a call and needed soft-and-caring Buck, “because we can divide and conquer or go at it together?”

“I’m not walking around the mall alone,” Eddie grimaces. He turned his gaze to watch Buck’s face morph from caring to concern, then to his god damned good poker face. 

“Okay,” He said, taking a bit of the fry he was holding, “it’s Target next then. We could get some Cognac there. Or Cointreau?”

“Both,” Eddie replied, “why didn’t I come shopping in October? It’s so fucking busy.”

“We can come back another day.”

“It will only get worse.”

“Write a list, I can come back later,” Buck argued.

“No, no. I’m not pathetic: I can Christmas shop.”

“I never said you’re pathetic. Finish your coffee, I’m going to get myself one as well. Then we’ll continue shopping.” Buck said, standing up and putting on his mask.

***

“I never picked you for a grinch,” Buck said, a finger poking into his shoulder, “or that you’re extremely prepared for Christmas,” Buck laughed to himself, his shoulder colliding with Eddie’s again, “I truly can not believe that you, Eddie Diaz, are the type to buy Christmas presents in July. I pegged you for shopping last minute or shopping in January type man. Any reason why it’s October?”

“Statistically it’s the quietest time for shopping. There’s the least amount of crowds and a lot of sales. At least in El Paso.” 

“You’re a fascinating man,” Buck replied, bemused, “I can do the rest of the shopping.”

“I’m fine.” Eddie snapped, the scowl he had been wearing all day growing deeper.

“You’ve been snapping at me the entire day. You only do that when you’re upset or wound up. Shopping is easy for me, and it’s fun because it’s Christmas. I can even take Christoper with me, and we can take photos with Santa,”

“We’re shopping for his Santa gifts. What are you going to say when he opens the gifts from Santa and sees the gifts he bought with you? Target’s on the right,” Eddie said, using his shoulder to nudge Buck towards the store.

“That Santa shops through me? I can tell him I was brought up by Santa’s elves in the North Pole. Chris is never going to meet my parents, so it’s not like he can prove me wrong later on.” Buck jested, shooting Eddie a proud ,  full-faced grin. A grin that lit up his entire face. “It’s a perfect, well-rounded plan.”

“I don’t like that you don’t want Chris to meet your parents,” Eddie sighed, frustration flowing freely through his words and body.

“I don’t, my parents suck.” Buck said curtly, “they’re cold, and mean, and would look Chris in the eyes and tell him Santa isn’t real, and he would succumb to nothing. They never failed to remind me that my dyslexia meant I wouldn’t be able to get a good job. Oh and they said my ADHD wasn’t a sufficient reason to stare at every homework assignment for hours, doing nothing, no matter how much I wanted to do it. I  _ never _ want them to have an influence on Christopher.” Buck pulled three boxes of Star Wars LEGOs off the shelves, letting them fall into the trolley.

“He doesn’t need three,” Eddie interrupted, reaching in the trolley, only to have Buck smack his hand.

“One box is for me, that I will share with Chris. But I want the Death Star on display in my apartment,” Buck explained, “Chris can live knowing that I grew up at the North Pole, with Santa and the Elves. I’m okay with him never meeting them. Does he need a new skateboard?”

“He’s barely used the one he has now,”

“I’ll come over more. I’m getting him a new skateboard,” Buck finalised, facing Eddie almost egging him to continue the lost debate. 

“Buck,” Eddie sighed, looking across at his friend. Eyes completely off the road of the shopping aisles.

“Santa Claus gives discounts.” He said, his eyes smiling the biggest shiteating grin Eddie had ever seen out of the man as he placed the new board in the trolley. “What else is on the list?”

“Your present,” Eddie said, smirking at Buck. Watching his friend squirm and turn dramatically to him.

“So shopping with Chris is offensive because he would know his gifts, but I get to know mine?”

“You’re not nine.”

“Your present is going to be a surprise. You’re a grinch, Eddie Diaz. Through and through. Oh! Look at this,” Buck said, taking a hedious green sweater – with a red-eyed Santa surrounded by brownies – off the rack and holding it against his chest.

“No,”

“Admit it, I look ravishing.” Buck said, as he turned and posed. Eyeing Eddie up and down as Buck began to mockingly walk down a runway. 

Eddie frowned, “Never say that again, and no. You are not wearing it around my son, it implies getting stoned.”

“He’s old enough to know weed,” Buck tried, then hurriedly put the sweater back on the rack at Eddie’s ugly glare. “Overstepped?”

“Yes,” Eddie grabbed Buck’s arm, turning him to the alcohol section of Target, “I don’t think we have any beer left.”

“You don’t, we drank the last of it the other night. And Hen and Karen had the last of the gin.”

“So we need cognac, cointreau, gin and beer.”

“And it’s my pick of beer this time.” Buck said, “where after Target? Toys R Us?”

“I hate that place,” Eddie mumbled, grabbing the six pack of Buck’s favourite beer and placing it in the trolley, leading the way to the stronger spirits. “Everything that’s there is just – I’m too tired to explain.”

“Try,” Buck demanded, eyeing Eddie with those god-damned puppy eyes. 

Cracks ran up Eddie’s wall, he sighed, “Nothing there is geared to Chris. Even the LEGO we got, he loves it, but he struggles with it.” Eddie faded himself off, raising an eyebrow at Buck as he pulled a bottle off the shelf, “not that cognac, it’s gross; get Hennessy.” Buck shrugged, and swapped them over. Holding another bottle out for Eddie’s nod of approval. The two moved off, walking side by side and in time.

“Go on.”

Fucking Evan Buckley and never dropping a conversation. Eddie clenched his hands tighter around the handle of the cart, attempting to divert his growing nerves

“Right, yeah. If I get him the LEGO that’s easier for him, or toys that he can hold easier, or use easier, he gets upset. He gets offended because he wants to use the ‘normal kid’ toys. It makes me feel like a bad father,” He ran his hands up to push the cart with his wrists, carefully pulling each finger down waiting for that satisfying – _click_ – and the moment of a blissful release of pain. 

“You are not a bad father,” Buck said, “if you get to choose what cognac we get, I get an opinion on the gin. And my opinion is Bombay Sapphire. And who gave you the idea that you’re a bad father?”

“Myself,” his thumb running over where his wedding ring once was. Almost –  _ almost  _ – annoyed that he had discarded the ring months ago. Missing the difference of texture between skin and cold gold. 

“Well, it’s not true. You’re shopping a week before Christmas, and have spent the entire four hours that we’ve been here shaking, getting more and more overwhelmed just to personally approve everything we get for Chris’ Santa presents. You forced yourself here despite hating crowds. You –” Buck cut himself off, and stepped in front of their shopping cart, forcing Eddie to a halt, “you evidently hate crowds, and yet you’re here. You’re here to make Chris’ Christmas the best it could be. You’re a good father.” Buck, seeming satisfied with his lecture, reached back over the cart, and pulled off a bottle of cointreau, “is this the only brand?”

“Yeah,” Eddie said, mind reeling over Buck’s words, struggling to keep up with him, “cointreau is a type of triple-sec. We can get another triple-sec.”

“But not another cointreau?”

“No,” Eddie said, “Buck?”

“Hm?” Buck said, not bothering to turn to Eddie. 

“Thank you,”

***

Eddie leant against the shopping cart, fingers drummed on it rapidly. To the world of people around him, he was relaxed. But to himself – and Buck – he was melting. His heart was thumping in his throat, choking him as it beat. Voices around him continued to raise and merge, forming one voice. Eddie shifted himself to stand straight, eyes flicked around the store. 

His military training at the forefront, Eddie locked on the two closest exits. Planning how he would grab Buck and escape. How Eddie would move with Buck in tow, and how they’d manipulate their way through if panic ensued. 

Eddie snapped his fingers to each second that passed, the feeling of his fingers against each other stimulating him and pushing the anxiety away. The sound of each click pulled his brain to the present, forcing himself to shop with Buck, instead of searching for a way to escape on the off chance that someone opened fire. 

Buck’s hand moved over his, forcing its way between them. His fingers curled Eddie’s right hand, and squeezed it, “I’ll go to the other stores another day,”

“Buck,” Eddie breathed, no ounce of annoyance in his voice, “I’m fine.”

Even though Eddie made no attempt to let go of Buck’s hand, instead he kept his fingers around Bucks, tapping out the anxiety.

“You’re not fine. Write me a list of what you need from the other stores, and I’ll get them all. I’ll FaceTime you the entire time I’m there. You’re torturing yourself for no other reason than to prove to yourself that you’re a good father,” Buck took a deep breath, “I’m driving you home after this. I’m going to make dinner. And while I make dinner, you’re going to write down everything you still want to get for Chris, and where to get it. Tomorrow, I’ll go and get everything.”

“You don’t need to do this,” Eddie turned, gazing at Buck with his shoulders slack. 

“You make it sound like I’m being forced to do this. We are going home after this.” Buck turned his head, staring forward and cutting off any argument that Eddie was trying to form.

And just as he formed the next word, the cashier shouted for them. Buck eased his hand from Eddie’s and took control of the cart, pushing all the gifts and goods away. Leaving Eddie standing, struggling to catch up with Buck’s words. His body took over from his mind, marching him forward to stand behind Buck and the cart. Silent as Buck completed the transaction, and guided Eddie out of the store with a soft tap on his shoulder.

The entire trip to the car, Eddie was silent, trailing behind Buck, unfocused eyes on the man in front of him. 

Eddie still didn’t say anything as he grabbed the bags of presents, and lifted them into the trunk of the car. Buck walked away with the trolley, and Eddie waited at the drivers side door for him to return. Eddie quickly prepared himself for Buck’s lecture about how he shouldn’t drive anxious, and that it was dangerous to drive while his mind was pulling him back to Afghanistan and finding every which way of getting out with his life. 

Evan Buckley cared, a dead man could see that. It took all of Eddie to admit Buck cared about him. It wasn’t just in his words, it wasn’t just that Buck stood his ground against Eddie’s arguing. It was Buck seeing how Eddie calmed himself, and repeating it. It was the soft, grounding touches that were so well timed. It was Buck holding his hand in the middle of a Target, purely because Eddie was unravelling in front of him. It was Buck inviting himself to all of Eddie’s shopping trips simply because he knew. 

Eddie lifted his gaze to watch Buck walk towards him, watching Buck’s face lighten up, and him pick up his pace. A single finger pointing accusingly, his mouth open and ready to form a lecture. 

Eddie stepped forward, cupped Buck’s neck, and pulled him in for a quick kiss. Their lips fit together perfectly, his lips like velvet against Eddie’s. Yet as quickly as the soft kiss started, Eddie ended it. Pulling away slowly at first, both men breathing against each other. Rooted in the moment.    
  


Eddie stepped back and fell back onto the car. Terrified to stare at Buck because he definitely should  _ not _ have just kissed his best friend without warning. Blood drained from his body, a millisecond between feeling the car behind his back and feeling nothing. Eddie let out a long sigh, finally looking up from the ground. In relief, he saw Buck smiling at him. The relief spilled from his mind to his body, sensation returning. Eddie felt his friend's hands tight on his hips.

“Very cute, Diaz,” Buck said with a laugh, leaning and returning the kiss, “But I’m still driving. Just because we had our first kiss, doesn’t mean that I’m letting you drive home. Especially in this state.”

Buck leant forward once more, his hands on Eddie’s hips as he led a longer kiss. Eddie smiled, his other hand on Buck’s face, thumbs rubbing gently. 

“I wanted to kiss you to kiss you, not to drive home,” Eddie said with a smile, gently pushing Buck’s face away from him and towards his car.

***

“Maddie’s with Chim’s family for Christmas, isn’t she?” Eddie asked, taking a sip from Buck’s newest alcoholic concoction. Eddie licked his lips at the drink, taking a longer drink from it, enjoying how dangerously fruity it was, “how strong is this?”

“Fairly strong,” Buck said, focusing on the vegetables instead of on Eddie, “Maddie doesn’t want our parents meeting Clementine. Ever, I think. And Chim doesn’t want her meeting his biological parents. So they’re spending Christmas with his family here.”

“Are you going with them?” Eddie voiced, eyeing Buck with concern.

Buck shook his head, “I was invited but ... I don’t want to spend Christmas feeling like the odd man out. Bobby invited me to his Christmas as well, I might go there. Or I might stay home and watch Die Hard.”

“You could always come with Chris and me to El Paso,” Eddie said, taking a slow sip from his drink, eyes glued to Buck. Buck froze, the knife hovering above the board. Eddie swallowed hard. They’d barely kissed, barely held hands and here he was, inviting him to spend Christmas with his extended family. Eddie pursed his lips, knowing it was far too late to retract the offer. Buck set down his knife, breaking out of his gaze, and looking up at Eddie. Forcing him to break out of his own. 

“Adriana and my dad agree that Die Hard is a Christmas movie, if that convinces you.”

Buck let out a surprised laugh, “you kissed me an hour ago, and you’re already inviting me to Christmas?”

“It’s been an unspoken relationship for months,” Eddie argued.

“What would I be going as” Buck pressed, an unnaturally hard edge to his normally soft voice, “your boyfriend or your friend?”

“I’d like you to go as my boyfriend,” Eddie said, leaning back in his chair to get a better view of Buck. He allowed all his faux-confidence to bleed out. “My family has known that I’m queer for a long time. They’re…” Eddie paused, taking a moment to breathe, and think, “they’re good, Buck. They’re  _ good _ people. 

“Do we have to cook?”

Eddie lets out a laugh, “I don’t think my mum would approve of me in the kitchen.”

Buck let out a soft laugh, picking up the knife and continuing to cut, “do I have to cook?”

“You like to cook,” Eddie protested, Buck’s shoulders shaking with his soft giggles.

“I do like to cook, Eddie Diaz. What do you want for Christmas lunch?”

“Mac ‘n’ cheese?” Eddie suggested, smiling and taking a drink as Buck watched him, “your recipe.”

Buck tapped his knife a few times on the board, feigning thinking, “am I going as your boyfriend?”

“Preferably,”

“Then yes,” Buck said, a large grin spread across his face. 

***

“I thought that mum would have enough of any of them to spare.” Eddie moaned, staring forward as he could feel Buck’s eyes on him. 

“It’s Christmas, why would she have spare milk and cheese?” Buck responded, throwing Eddie an adorable glare that only Evan Buckley could pull off, “besides, I texted you the list of things I needed specifically to forward to your mother. And I texted the list mere hours after you invited me to your family’s for Christmas.” 

“Alright, alright. It’s my fault.” Eddie groaned, waving his hand to silence his boyfriend, “are you adding chili to the mac ‘n’ cheese?”

“I can’t eat spicy things.” Buck complained, pouting at Eddie. 

“You’re very white, I know that. But you’re cooking for a Spanish family and my Swedish mum who can eat more chili than my father.” Eddie laughed to himself, “the mashed potatoes don’t have to have chili.”

“You all are going to add chili oil. I know you too well, Edmundo.” Buck sighed, lifting two jugs of milk into their cart and gesturing for Eddie to continue to push their shopping cart around the store, “what cheeses?”

“It’s  _ your _ recipe,”

“Says the man who demanded chili in the mac ‘n’ cheese, not a minute ago.” 

“It’s your recipe, aside from needing chili. Come on, the better cheeses are this way.” Eddie said, Buck’s hand slipping onto one of his own. Eddie relished in the gentle reminder of his partner by his side, at how gentle this man was. At how this man knew him almost better than he knew himself. 

“It’s quiet tonight,” Buck commented.

“It’s Christmas Eve. No one’s shopping except us. And everyone else who realised they forgot ingredients the night before.” 

“Honestly, what would humans do if we were all organised and we all communicated?” Buck laughed, turning and eyeing Eddie.

“You’re not going to drop it, are you?”

“Maybe,” Buck said with a laugh, “oh! You’re right, these are fancy cheeses,” Buck grabbed the shopping cart with delight, and guided Eddie towards the fridges overstocked with every type of blue cheese and random French cheeses. Eddie couldn’t help but smile at his boyfriend as he picked up cheeses with childish delight.

Maybe last-minute Christmas shopping wasn’t so bad with his overly-excited, cooking obsessed boyfriend.


End file.
